


i want to be your favorite destination

by WannabeMarySue



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime)
Genre: Excessive Use of Gina Linetti Quotes, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Moomin is in love, Snufkin sticks it to the man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 22:42:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18678808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WannabeMarySue/pseuds/WannabeMarySue
Summary: “You can’t just,” Snufkin flailed his arms around, “Lock up the wild. It’s against the laws of nature. We need to, I don’t know, seize the means of production or something.”“Yeah!” Moomin and Moominpapa shouted.“I don’t think that’s right,” Little My said, “But I don’t know enough about capitalism to argue.”





	i want to be your favorite destination

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is a lot of fluff inspired by gina linetti and tumblr memes, plz enjoy

_ i want to be your favorite destination, in the good times and the bad _

* * *

 

Moomintroll awoke to the soft wash of morning sunlight filtering through his curtains. On the tree outside his window, the songbirds were in full lilt, and he couldn’t help the fuzzy warmth that filled him up and propelled him out of bed. On his way down the stairs, he banged on Little My’s door, yelling for her to wake up  _ it’s spring! _

In the kitchen, Moominmamma was cooking pancakes, while Moominpappa sat at the table staring blankly at the fresh journal in front of him.

“Spring has sprung, and so have I!” Moomin declared, practically skipping through the kitchen on his way to the front door.

“What does that  _ even  _ mean?” Little My asked, walking into the kitchen behind him.

“Is he really that age all ready?” Moominpappa inquired, looking over at Moominmamma with consternation. 

“Don’t worry dear,” she told him, reaching out to pat his paw, “I think he’s just excited to see Snufkin.”

“Almost sounds like a euphemism,” Little My snickered, hoisting herself into a chair at the table.

Moominpappa laughed, until Moominmamma shot them both a quelling look.

Outside, Moomin ran towards the bridge Moominpappa had built over the stream, tripping excitedly through the tall, spring grass. Snufkin wasn’t there yet, and he couldn’t hear the telltale sounds of his harmonica on the wind. But he would be here soon: “The first day of spring.”

That’s what Snufkin had promised.

.

Moomin was sitting on the bridge, kicking his feet back and forth above the water when Snorkmaiden approached him. She stopped next to him on the bridge, positioning herself  _ just so _ , and cleared her throat several times.

Tearing his eyes away from the forest path that led into Moominvalley, Moomin gave her a thorough once over. She hadn’t changed her hair; it was still her same blonde bangs, and there was no apron like Moominmamma wore--

“Oh, you’ve added an anklet,” he exclaimed, “It’s beautiful.”

“You mean,  _ I’m  _ beautiful,” she corrected, feigning bashfulness.

“Of course,” he said with a chuckle, “And modest, too.”

“Is that sarcasm I detect, Moomintroll?” she asked, “You should know better than that. Besides, you know the only thing I’m not good at is modesty,” she paused to gently adjust her anklet so that it would glint in the spring sunshine, “because I’m great at it.”

“Yes, well,” Moomin glanced between her and the forest path, “You are both beautiful and modest, but I’m kind of waiting for--”

“Right, right, I know, pining after Snufkin,” she interrupted, “I’m just on my way to see Sniff, anyways.”

Moomin, thinking he had heard the strains of music from the woods, had turned his attention back to the path. Snorkmaiden huffed a good-bye and walked off to find someone who would appreciate her penchant for accessories a little bit better. 

.

The sun had just reached its peak, and Moomin could smell lunch wafting over from the house when he heard the delicate, looping sounds of a fresh, spring tune.

“Snufkin,” Moomin leaped up and rushed over to him. He was dressed in his usual green tunic, his auburn curls, normally bare to the elements, were peaking out of a pointed, green hat.

Snufkin stopped playing to give Moomin a soft smile, and forgetting himself for a moment, Moomin stuttered forward with his arms outstretched before he caught himself.

To his surprise though, Snufkin met him halfway, enveloping him in a warm, if somewhat stiff hug. 

A moment later, when they stepped back from each other, Moomin exclaimed, “Snufkin! You hugged me.”

Snufkin blushed faintly, “Well, a little madness in the spring is wholesome, I hear.”

Moomin, unable to contain his happiness, did a little dance in place, “C’mon then, Moominmamma has just made lunch, and I want to hear all about your winter travels.”

He grabbed Snufkin’s hand and pulled him along over the river. Snufkin, laughing, used his other hand to keep his hat secure on his head and followed Moomin home.

.

Moominpappa and Little My had set the table up outside for the first lunch of spring, but Moominmamma was waiting for the two of them with a large bucket of sudsy water and a towel.

Snufkin, half-hidden behind Moomin, stuttered out, “I really don’t think that’s necessary--”

“Snufkin, dear,” Moominmamma said gently, “Don’t you get tired of losing the same argument every year?’

“Oooh, savage,” Little My said. Snufkin stuck his tongue out at her, but slunk over to the tub, letting Moominmamma clean the four months of travel off of him.

“It’s lunch  _ and  _ a show,” Little My said to Moomin from where they were sitting at the table.

Moomin blushed and did not reply.

When they all finally sat down to lunch, they all bombarded Snufkin with questions about his travels. He answered as he always did, somewhat vaguely; only peppering in particularly dangerous tasks as if they were side thoughts and instead talking at length about the plants or cool rocks he saw that reminded him of Moomin. These things also made Moomin blush, and it did not help that Little My kept kicking him under the table.

“Snufkin,” Little My interrupted him, “As fascinating as this detailed description of a mountain river is, and it’s not, let’s be clear, I couldn’t help but notice earlier today that a new park has been erected in Moominvalley.”

“A new  _ what _ ?” Snufkin’s voice squeaked with indignation.

Little My nodded, “With keep out signs, fences, and everything.”

Snufkin looked prepared to storm the park then and there, and Moomin swore he saw a flash of something that looked suspiciously like a knife.

“Yes!” Moominpappa exclaimed, jumping up from his chair and brandishing his hat, “Teenage rebellion! Stick it to the man!”

“That’s nice, honey,” Moominmamma said, pulling him back down into his seat, “But let’s save the rebellion for after lunch.”

“Of course, dear.”

Little My shrugged, “Why do we even care so much about a park?”

“You can’t just,” Snufkin flailed his arms around, “Lock up the  _ wild _ . It’s against the laws of nature. We need to, I don’t know,  _ seize the means of production  _ or something.”

“Yeah!” Moomin and Moominpappa shouted.

“I don’t think that’s right,” Little My said, “But I don’t know enough about capitalism to argue.”

“You’re starting to sound a little like the man there, My,” Snufkin said.

“Okay, look, you know I always state my mind, but I’m not a cop or anything. I don’t even really like cops. Honestly,” Little My said, “I think crime’s kind of cool.”

“Help me clean up lunch,” Moominmamma told them, “and then you can go dismantle the park.”

.

Snufkin, Moomin, and Little My crouched outside of the new park’s tall, wrought iron fence. Inside, the flowers were planted in neat rows, and the trees each had bricks circled around their roots.

“It’s like a plant prison,” Snufkin said, sounding broken.

“Don’t worry,” Moomin soothed, gently prying the knife out of Snufkin’s clenched hand, “We’ll dismantle it.”

.

“How many times am I going to have to pick you three up from jail?” Moominmamma asked as the police inspector unlocked the cell.

“He started it,” Little My replied, gesturing to where the park keeper was sitting in the adjacent cell.

Moominmamma turned to him; “Honestly,” she scolded, ‘They’re just kids.”

“They destroyed my park!” The park keeper protested.

“You’re park destroyed the wilderness!” Snufkin shouted back as Moominmamma drug her three charges out of the jail.

.

Sniff and Snorkmaiden joined the Moomins and Snufkin for dinner that evening. They were all just sitting down at the table when Snorkmaiden leaned over to Moomin and asked, “Since when does Snufkin wear a hat?”

She surreptitiously adjusted her new golden anklet. It was the Mymble, during her last trip to Moominvalley, who had told Snorkmaiden that statement jewelry was really a must.

Moomin shrugged and began to eat the dinner that Moominmamma placed in front of him.

On the other side of the table, Snufkin reached up and gave his hat a fond pat, “It just feels right.”

.

At some point after Snufkin had settled back in Moominvalley, Little My swapped out Snufkin’s usual pipe, which he had lovingly carved himself, thank you very much, with a long pipe that only blew bubbles. Not one to give her the satisfaction of a prank well-executed, he had been puffing on the pipe all day, resolutely ignoring the bubbles floating out of it and bobbing around his head. Whenever anyone tried to point them out, he simply walked off into the forest.

The mounting look of frustration and pride on Little My’s face was worth every second of withdrawal.

Later, when Little My had finally caved and given him back his pipe, she asked, “What are you always smoking, anyways?”

“Oh, it’s catnip,” he replied serenely as he packed a bowl.

.

That night, Moomin and Snufkin laid out in the front yard, stargazing. Snufkin would point out constellations, and Moomin, pretending not to see them in the night sky, would smile shyly when Snufkin gently guided his paw to point out the star’s configurations. 

Little My found them on the grass the next morning, curled around each other and dusted in morning dew. Quietly, she went back inside, fetched the pitcher of lemonade from the kitchen and poured it over the two of them.

She smiled serenely as they sputtered awake, wet and confused on the front lawn.

**Author's Note:**

> comments make the world go round


End file.
